Anthology
by buongiorno
Summary: A collect of various stories based around the characters of the Dragon Ball Universe.
1. Christmas

**A/N:** This is pretty much my first real attempt at poetry of any kind. Chichi is lamenting over memories she has of Goku (set during those seven years he was gone), and how she misses him. I don't know where my inspiration for this piece came from, but I thought it came out pretty well. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Christmas

Do you remember that one Christmas?  
That Christmas of joy?  
When I gave you my heart  
And said it wasn't a toy

You accepted it kindly with great lust  
So much that I thought I might bust  
The night was filled with such passion and grace  
I could not have been looking at a more beautiful face

Since then love has vanished  
These lonely stone walls have grown cold  
Love has been banished  
Leaving them no more memories to hold

It hurts to look around the house  
Knowing that you are far gone  
Even someone as tiny as Mr. Mouse  
Realizes that there is no bed in which you lie upon

There is something that just doesn't feel right  
Something that is much amiss  
Oh, I know what it is  
We never shared our last kiss

I was convinced I would see you again  
So much so that when I heard the news  
I truly thought I might go insane  
"No," I said, "this cannot be true! Please, someone show me some clues!"

Then they held up a lone boot  
A boot with string still tied around the front  
At that moment my heart shattered  
It crumbled into a million pieces  
Each piece fell to the floor  
Each piece scattered

Not a Christmas goes by that I do not think of you  
Wishing oh-so-very-much that you were here  
Somehow I know you are thinking of me, too  
No one is there when I shed that one tear  
In those solemn moments where I feel most blue

I hope you're aware that I still love you  
Once again wishing that you were still here

You had your reasons for going  
But I still miss you, Son Goku


	2. The Last Time

**A/N:** This piece is set in the future time line, addressing the "what-if" situation between Future Gohan and Future Trunks. Gohan loved Trunks, but just how much _did_ he love him? Enough to be his first and only time? Enjoy! :D

**Warning:** Yaoi between an adult and a minor.

* * *

The Last Time

Our first time was such pure bliss.

His face was more than divine as it hovered over mine, our bodies rocking together in time with the rhythm he was setting. My eyes were so clouded with lustful tears and my mouth so full of passionate cries. He was there, smiling down at me, kissing and nipping at the edge of my jaw, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay, don't worry, I'm here!"

My arms were suddenly wrapped around his neck and I pulled him down. My mouth met with his and I cried out, his body tangling with mine in such a delicious way. I couldn't stand it; I needed it to be over! It just felt so weird! Once more he began whispering to me, saying, "Shh, don't freight. It'll all be over soon."

Our bodies met with much more force after that. All I could do was bite my hand to stop myself from screaming. In the blink of an eye it all seemed to be over, just as he said, though it felt like an eternity. White now clouded my vision, accompanied by tiny black dots each time I blinked. All the pain and pleasure had suddenly disappeared, and I blinked my eyes for a final time before darkness over took me.

I awoke to find him lying next to me, covers draped over his form, sleep consuming his being. Once again I noted how angelic he looked, and I turned over to cuddle up against his chest. He stirred some as I laid my head down, his eyes focusing on me once they opened. I heard a groan of satisfaction as his good arm came around to hold me, pulling me closer toward his being.

We slept soundly together for the next few hours, or so I'd like to think. Upon waking he was gone, and I noticed a note that was left on the nightstand. I guess it isn't easy being the only hope mankind has left. Maybe I'll be able to help him one day. That way, he would never have to run off without me.


	3. Attraction

**A/N:** This piece is set post-Buu, and involves an encounter between Goku and his now-grown son, Gohan. Hidden desires are what fulled the fire of creation for this piece, since Goku died when Gohan was such a young age. Now that he has matured, Gohan has a much better understanding of why he had always longed to be near his father. However, not everyone involved is in agreement.

**Warning:** Yaoi.

* * *

Attraction

Father, I'm sorry.

You hit the kitchen wall so hard that a crack splits straight down the middle, but you don't seem to care. All you do is wrap your legs tighter around my waist. I know you can feel me through my gi, since you keep rubbing the cusp of your behind against it. One of my hands are gripping at the wall beside your head while the other is trying to hold up your messy raven bangs. We wouldn't want hair in our mouths, would we?

Your cheeks burn like lava when I move my hand down to cup your face. I crack my eyes open to see tears forming at the edges of your eyes. Immediately I understand: You feel just as disgusted as I do. I cease my attack on your mouth and hold your head toward the ceiling. My mouth then heads for your neck, and I hear you scream out my name as your fingers glue themselves onto my shoulders.

"Gohan," you say again, voice hoarse, "why?" Your grip on my shoulders becomes even tighter. "Why do I feel this way, son?" You moan as my tongue flicks over the middle of your neck. I choose not to answer you. I really don't know why you feel that way. Whatever it is, it must have the same explanation for me. What boy, who has idolized his father for as long he could remember, grows up to one day be doing _this_ to him? "I feel like such a failure . . ."

My actions cease at your words, and suddenly I hear the turning of the front door. "We're home!" my brother, Goten, screams out. I unhook your legs from my waist and drop them to the floor. I lift your hands from my shoulders and take a seat at the kitchen table. I watch you as you go to the sink and turn the water on, cupping some in your hands and then splashing it onto your face.

It isn't long until Goten comes into the kitchen with bags filled with groceries. He plops them onto the table, smiles at me, and runs back out to get more. He doesn't even notice you, in the corner, trying to piece your life back together. You might not even know it, dad, but I _know_ that's what you're trying to do. You're trying to come up with some way that can help you deny your feelings for me.

I'm not even sure if that helps, _or hurts._


	4. Family

**A/N:** This piece deals with events that happen in between the three year gap from Future Trunks' first arrival to the arrival of the Androids. Here, Gohan is teetering on the edge of boyhood and adolescence. He is young enough to still be calling his parents "mommy" and "daddy," though he's also mature enough (thanks to Chichi constantly making him study) to understand and use words like "pity" correctly. My inspiration for this has to do with a fight that broke out in my house that night. Not that anything like this had to do with it. This is just me throwing my own little sick and twisted spin to it. Enjoy! c:

**Warning:** Yaoi between an adult and a minor; shota.

* * *

Family

Daddy comes every now and then.

Usually more so when he has arguments with Mommy, which have been happening more frequently. At first I usually see him outside. He screams a lot, and turns red. Actually, there are times where he even turns yellow. Or is it gold? Anyway, I think that's what Vegeta means when he says that my father is a "Super Saiyan."

He punches and kicks the air around him, and I can see the little droplets of sweat jumping off of him as he moves. It's like the droplets are his anger, and them making that fateful leap off of his skin is what he wishes he could do. But Daddy knows he'd live if he was to ever do something like that. I'd live, too. I think he gets mad at himself because of that. Sometimes I think he wishes he could be as weak and fragile as Mommy.

When he's done screaming and training, that's usually when he comes into my bedroom. I know he can tell I'm still up, but I pretend to be asleep when he inches his way under my covers. At first he runs his hand through my hair and tells me how much he loves me. Then he kisses my forehead. The palm of his hand then rests on the front of my jammies and his mouth is now kissing my neck. This is usually when I pretend to "wake up," and act all surprised. He softly tells me to be quiet or Mommy will start yelling again, which is something neither of us want. So, I do as Daddy tells me, his hand now rubbing roughly against the front of my jammies.

I don't know why I whine. It doesn't hurt; it feels good! At this point, Daddy begins to lift my shirt up over my head. We both laugh as the collar gets caught under my ear, and then he places his mouth on my nipple. I gasp loudly, and Daddy reminds me about being quiet. I nod my head and apologize, and his hand then slips under my jammies and undies.

I don't know what it is we do next, but it feels really nice. Daddy calls me a good boy after we're done, but I wonder why he says that? Is it because what comes out of me isn't the same as what comes out of him? Does he _know_ that there's something wrong with me, and he pities me for it? Daddy kisses me for a final time and helps me clean up. After that, he helps me get dressed again and tucks me in. When he leaves my room, I can tell it isn't to Mommy's room he goes. No, it feels like he goes far, far away. Even so, Daddy's always back by morning. Maybe what Mommy says is right.

Maybe Daddy and I are really monsters.


End file.
